I grabbed Assilem’s face and gave it a thorough petting before dropping a kiss on the top of his sleek black head. “Do they not normally get affection? Who could keep their hands off such a sweet doggie?” I said to Assilem in a baby voice.
Timothy returned with a glass of scotch. The aromatics on the air told me it was aged far beyond my years. “No human can see the reapers,” Timothy hurried to explain, handing the glass to Grim, who took it with an approving grunt.
Grim swirled the scotch. “They aren’t stray dogs who need to debase themselves like common canines. They fetch the souls of the dead, then sort and deliver them to their appropriate destination.” He sipped his drink and closed his eyes as if the liquid were ambrosia, helping to ease his troubles.
Try as I might, I couldn’t help but watch him. I’d never seen Grim do anything but volley back and forth from glower to death stare. But for the first time, as he drank, I saw pleasure smooth his features. Seeing him like this felt too intimate, like I was intruding on a private moment.
Girl, you are being held captive in his penthouse. You have enough reign here you could fish out his underwear and pull them on your head and dance around if you wanted. He’s just wetting his whistle.
I hugged Assilem closer to me. “I thought sorting souls was your job? Why are you forcing these sweet puppers to do your job? That’s animal abuse.” Then I remembered, “Oh that’s right, you only take the extra special cases, like the Supreme Court. Even so, it’s a crime you don’t give your sweet little reapers some love and affection.” Assilem pushed himself further into my arms.
Timothy opened his mouth and looked back and forth between Grim and I as if expecting World War III to break out.
Instead of flying across the distance between us and ripping my head off, Grim let out a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Yay for the effects of brown liquor on the beast.
Then he snapped his fingers and pointed to his side. Assilem turned to give my cheek a friendly lick before trotting over and dutifully sitting at Grim’s side. Grim drained the rest of the glass and placed it on the countertop with a clink.
“Refrain from treating my reapers as common canines or I will put a leash on you,” Grim warned.
Not bothering to get off the floor, I popped my knees up and rested my arms across them. “Kinky, G. Where was that when I was wearing that getup in the club earlier? Would have totally completed the look.”
A choking sound had us turning to Timothy. He hid his face behind his tablet, pretending to be absorbed, though he was fighting back laughter.
Gold arced from Grim’s eyes this time. He pointed a finger at me. “You will stay here. You will not leave until I return. So help me, if you do, I will rip your head off like those other nasty sekhors.”
With impressive agility, I kicked my legs out and landed on my feet. I saluted. “Aye aye, captain.”
Grim didn’t give me a second look as he stalked off to the elevator, but Assilem shot me a longing gaze even as he followed his master.
Once they’d gone, Timothy dropped the tablet, his face redder than before. Only after the elevator closed and descended did Timothy speak. “I wonder why you feel the need to aggravate him so?”
I shrugged before walking over to one of the sleek gray couches and flopped on it. I shut my eyes and said, “I may be here acting as bait, but he doesn’t control me. If Grim thinks he can keep me from petting an adorable dog, reaper or not, he needs a reality check. And maybe he should see about getting the rod removed from his sculpted ass.”
You should volunteer. You would love to get your hands on his bare ass.
The memory of his exploring touch in the limo sent heat shooting through me again. I’d wanted him to go further. Hell, I wanted him to go all the way. The rough, firm pad of his thumb so close to my nipple had almost made me lose my damn mind.
Timothy made a humming sound. He was unconvinced. “Yes, well, I’m not sure what reality you live in, but I can see you have a total disregard for order. Grim prefers things to be in order. Without his tireless efforts, the world would fall into chaos. I guarantee you he does not forget that for a single second,” then he muttered, “though sometimes I wish he would.”
I propped myself up on one arm. “Is he even capable of relaxing? I would think he’d combust into black confetti the second he tried.”
Some of the mirth drained from Timothy’s eyes. “I understand you had a run-in with Qwynn?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, dropping back onto the comfy couch. “What a piece of work she is.”
Timothy nodded. “The master is a dedicated being to his core. Even though she hurt him, he loved her beyond reason. Part of me believes it’s because she brought out his desire to play. But what they had was toxic, and it almost destroyed him on several occasions. He doesn’t allow himself any enjoyment lest something terrible should happen if he were to relax.”
“That’s a bit extreme. What he described was obsession, not love or true play. Qwynn doesn’t respect him. Sounds like she ran him around on a leash until he broke it off. He’s got to know it’s not always like that.”
Not that I knew. I didn’t remember anything, but common sense told me there was a billion kinds of love out there, and Grim thought there was only one kind. Or maybe that he was capable of only one kind, which made me feel sorry for him. I wonder what his highness would think of my pity.
Timothy pursed his lips. “Yes, well, she had a millennium to ruin him.”
Millennium. If Qwynn wasn’t a vampire or Death like Grim, what was she? What was Bianca? Even Timothy set off my radar for “weird.” Discomfort squirmed in my belly like a pack of worms. I didn’t like the idea of Grim being with that harpy. He deserved…better.
What is it of my concern what he deserves? He can be with whoever he wants. He’s death for crying out loud.
